One Love For Another
by TK The Tenacious
Summary: To obtain a life with the Precious, he exchanged the life of his friend... Regrets.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing at all. 

Author's Notes: This story takes place before LOTR. Thanks to Phantom for being my beta reader. My first real attempt at dark fiction, so please tell me what you think! Nicely. ^_^ 

One Love for Another

Down in the dark where many things sleep  
  
Is one who is lost, buried and deep  
  
His soul cries out to those wandering above  
  
As in pain, he remembers one lost love…  
  
~  
  
He shook his head. "Long time." he thought. "So long… so long."  
  
Sitting alone he drew circles on the stone. He was alone now, cold, forgotten. He had left everything he had ever loved. Everything he had ever desired. Time meant nothing, all he could think of were times far back, times when he had been loved and cared for. He had not always been alone, forced to hide from the sun.  
  
Regrets. He had so many… He spent his days wondering what might have happened… had IT never come. Once that wretched, twisted being came everything had changed. He could never be the same again. It had promised much more then he could have ever wanted. If only he had known the price...   
  
Pacing, he looked about the dark cavern walls. Why had he done it? He didn't have to, and he didn't want to. He fell down in a miserable heap and cried, his wails filling the darkness around him. He was wretched. He hated himself. Through the tears he turned his head to a small pale light.   
  
"I'm lost!" He cried desperately. His voice echoed and came back at him.   
  
"Lost!" He said again, more pitifully then before.   
  
Nothing. Just his echo. As he lay curled in a small heap, memories rushed back to him…  
  
He imagined he was in the sunlight again, outside of his little hole. The creek was bubbling and his Grandmother was sitting on the porch, weaving baskets. Smiling, he went up and kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"I won't be long." He murmured through his tears. So many times had he said this to himself… I won't be long.  
  
He saw it all. His village and the people bustling about… He knew where he going.   
  
He made his way to a little bank and sat down. The water was clear. Perfect for a good day of swimming.  
  
"Or fishing…" He sobbed.  
  
He stepped into the shallow water and started to dig about. He loved digging, looking. He was fondling shells when he heard a voice cal his name. It was his good friend, out fishing for the day.  
  
The visions vanished. Silence came over the cave. The miserable figure cried softly. He could not stop the memories. They came like the wind in a storm, biting, slicing, painful.  
  
His friend hailed him into the boat. Eagerly he climbed in. He could still feel the rock and sway of the tiny vessel.  
  
He clutched at the stone beneath him to hold his balance.   
  
They fished for a time when his friend saw something. Diving, he came back with a fist full of mud.  
  
"Don't show us!" He yelled at his memory.  
  
He saw it all unfold in his mind. His friend slowly unfolding his hand to show him the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.  
  
Gold. That cursed, beautiful, twisted, precious gold.  
  
He pounded the stone under him, cursing his friend for being so stupid. Couldn't he hear it calling?  
  
It called his name… He heard it, why couldn't his friend?  
  
"I asked him." He told himself.   
  
"He said no, didn't he?" He snapped back.  
  
Miserable, he watched what happened next. In his mind it was all over quick. No more friend, no more life. Just Precious, one love for another. One friend for a master.   
  
He turned and screamed at the cave around him.  
  
"Lost!"  
  
He heard laughter. Turning he saw his Friend sitting on the bank, fishing pole in hand. He stumbled back.  
  
"Deagol?" He asked.  
  
His friend continued to laugh as though he did not see the pain his friend was going through.   
  
"Hello Smeagol. Lovely day for a swim." He said. "Or fishing."  
  
"Yes… Deagol. I have something… yours." He croaked.  
  
Deagol cocked his head and continued to laugh.   
  
"Me? Nonsense!" He answered.  
  
Smeagol was desperate.   
  
"Please! It's yours!" He called.  
  
Deagol laughed.  
  
Smeagol fumbled in a small bag and pulled It out. His precious, his one love.   
  
"Deagol! This is yours!" He called again at the figure on the bank.  
  
The figure shook its' head "No, your birthday! Remember?"  
  
Smeagol clutched at his head in pain. Everything seemed to spin. "No Deagol… not my birthday! This is yours!"  
  
Deagol laughed harder.  
  
"Please!" He begged. 

Deagol continued to laugh and fish. With a cry of agony Smeagol threw his precious at the phantom. It hit Deagol and he vanished.   
  
There was a splash. Smeagol fell away and Gollum screamed and flung himself into the water after his Love.  
  
Crawling back to his rock, wet, he cradled it in his palm, stroking it both with love and hate. That small gold band. That bit of gold that was everything to him. He turned away from the light…  
  
"Lost… so lost… but not alone…" 

~  
  
Smeagol is gone, but Gollum remains…  
  
Bound by the guilt, in its' terrible chains  
  
Deagol is lost, Precious has all  
  
And one that was pure has answered its' call…

  
  
~ The End ~  
  



End file.
